


An Inconvenient Reality

by cariandra



Series: The Gift [3]
Category: Jupiter Ascending (2015)
Genre: Angry Balem, But He Gets Better, Jupiter has a very bad no good day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-05-03 10:18:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5286914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cariandra/pseuds/cariandra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being a recurrence isn't all it's cracked up to be.  When you're a recurrence still alive during your primary's lifespan?  Kiss any hope of a regular life goodbye.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rescue

Consciousness comes slowly, fighting through drug and injury induced sleep.  Jupiter feels the floating weightlessness gently restraining her, back parallel to the floor, in a strange room.  Everything smells sterile, cold, and obviously infrequently used, not even the smell of old dirt and dust to show some sign of passing life. 

Her eyelids fight their way open, glowing blue weightlessness the only light filling the stark room she has been hidden away in.

A groan slips from her lips, the warning Kalique had expressed before sending her home the previous month ringing through her ears.  She’d said things would be more dangerous now that Orous, and every single Entitled, knew she existed.  The warnings Kalique pressed during their first lesson, words she’d not taken seriously at the time, are now very real.

Oh god, her Keepers.  She remembers them running, rushing her down the alley, trying to get her to safety, the ice on the ground making it all but impossible for Jupiter to do anything quickly.  The cold air bit her throat, the heavy snow blocking any clear view of who, or what, was chasing them.  Heat, so close Jupiter felt it through her thick coat, blasted by her side.   A tear slides down Jupiter’s face into her hair at the memory of one Keeper, broken, blood beginning to pool on the frozen ground.

Were the rest of them even still alive?  Jupiter’s memory after that fragments into gunshots, shouting in a language she’s never heard before, and then a great pressure slamming onto her back, face scraping on the sharp ice as she lands on the ground.  A sting in her neck, then nothing.

Kalique must know she’s missing.  The waiting shuttle would have reported their absence, traced their activities.  Someone will know she’s been kidnapped.  Jupiter is surprised at how quickly the first attack came. 

It’s only been a month since her conversation with Kalique and their revelation of what her mother has planned.  Their agenda this time had been to come up with a plan for Jupiter to meet Seraphi, since all of Kalique’s FTL’s in the last month had gone unanswered.  It had been Maledictes to suggest that Jupiter try and send her own message.

A bitter thought worms its way in, that Balem must be thrilled.  The recurrence he believes enabled his mother’s self-destructive plan missing, possibly dead?  Everything he could have wanted.

A deeper, darker thought follows.  Did he plan this?  His first effort, horrifying her into running away, had failed.  Had the time for pleasantries ended?  Was Balem desperate enough to incur the wrath of Seraphi Abrasax?  Seraphi feared no one.  Her child would be no exception.

Jupiter’s preoccupation turns to her current location.  Where is she?  Swinging herself through the fermionics proves pointless; these are not the ones Jupiter has become accustomed to in Kalique’s alcazar.  This room is clearly meant for restraint, not comfort.  To keep her vulnerable.

She looks around the best she can, but the room reveals nothing.  Grey metal walls and floor, the only obvious tech the glowing fermionic generators to keep her floating in the middle of the room and a monitor near the door with her vitals displayed. 

Great.  She was stuck.  Floating in a room.  Waiting for someone to come murder her.  Not exactly how she planned on going out.

Jupiter sees her heartrate spike on the monitor and focuses on calming her breathing, slowing her heartbeat.  The last thing she needs is to get knocked out with another space drug.

So she floats, waiting for something to happen.  _Anything_ to happen.  Apparently people always forget to mention the boredom when one is being held hostage.  Although they usually aren’t completely immobilized in midair, getting increasingly worried about the growing urge to pee.

She’s almost fallen asleep again, trying to push the image of her dying Keepers from her mind, when a loud _boom_ vibrates through the room.  The fermionics flicker, then stop completely.  Jupiter shrieks before slamming into the ground, suddenly preoccupied with pulling air into her suddenly empty lungs.

Through her gasping breaths Jupiter realizes the room is now utterly black.  She hears sharp bursts of sound, deep thundering booms, and what sounds like some sort of alarm going off.  Is there a fight happening somewhere in the ship?  Or building?  Is she even on a planet?

Jupiter makes a guess and crawls to where she thinks she remembers the door being, pressing her back to the wall.  If she’s lucky someone will come to move her and she can make a dash for it.

As the vibrations against her back grow in intensity Jupiter realizes someone is trying to get to her.  Worry changes into a concern over who exactly is coming to her rescue, or if this is merely going to be an episode of pass the recurrence.

The firefight grows closer, until finally one last shot rings out next to the door.  Then silence.  There is nothing but her breathing and the sound of someone shuffling outside the room to fill the blackness.  Jupiter has the momentary brilliance to shut her eyes to keep from being blinded by the sudden light that fills the room, then darts through the door, hoping to make it past the legs of her possible second kidnapper.

Jupiter’s hope is immediately dashed when arms wrap around her waist to unceremoniously press her against the hallway wall.  The man, a lycantant by the looks of him, waits for her ineffectual kicks and punches to stop before letting her rest against the wall under her own power. 

Jupiter glares at the man, wishing, not for the first time, that her features were slightly more intimidating.  She forces her body to relax, but the glare remains.  Once he’s certain she isn’t going to try and run he backs away, holding up his hands at her hostile expression, definitely trying to not smile at the small fists she raises in front of herself.

“Who are you?” she asks.

“Caine Wise, I was sent to rescue you.” 

Jupiter looks him up and down, spotting the Legionnaire sigil on his boots, wings hovering at his back, and the rather impressive armory he’s managed to attach to his uniform.  Was he really going to need that many grenades?

“Why is a skyjacker rescuing a recurrence?”

He looks down at the floor, hands lowering to rest near the weapons at his hips, clearly debating what to say, then settles on, “My employer asked.  She’ll save my commander’s daughter if I succeed.”

She?  Kalique? 

Every word out of his mouth could be a lie, but what other option does she have?  She has no idea where she is, if she’s even still in the Milky Way, and it’s not like she can pilot a ship.  Plus the cost to pay off a skyjacker to rescue, or kidnap, her would be exorbitant.  Definitely not something most Entitled would think is worth the effort.  Most, however, doesn’t mean all. 

Her decision is made by the sound of boots running down a nearby hallway, angry shouting echoing through the metal halls.  Someone, many someone’s, obviously heading for their position. 

Jupiter nods at him.  “Let’s go.”

Jupiter follows Caine through the hallways, pausing when he holds out a hand, covering her ears as he covers her with his body to fire at their pursuers.  No matter how far they run, how many SIM’s and splices Caine takes down, there are always more.

 “Hang on!” Caine yells.  A scream escapes Jupiter when Caine unceremoniously hurls her over a balcony. 

An explosion rips through the space Jupiter occupied only seconds before, the percussive force knocking the air from her lungs.  Heat and debris envelops the pair as they fall at a sickening rate towards the floor that is suddenly much closer than it was moments ago.  Jupiter tries to shield her face from the flying metal in the air but it slices into her hands and cheeks, larger pieces slamming into her back to send her into a nauseating spin and making it all the more difficult for Caine to catch a good grip on her.

He finally, _finally,_ gets an arm around her torso, their landing definitely not the graceful touchdowns Jupiter is used to seeing in holovids.  Their pause to stand is short lived.

Again, Caine sends them running through the hallways, their attackers finally far enough behind that she can hear her breathing again.  Jupiter fidgets and jumps at every noise as Caine quickly hacks door after door to get them to their escape location.

If Jupiter thought she was done with the situation before, she is _seriously_ done with it by the time Caine hurls her into the back of a small jumper and has it opening a portal before they’ve even cleared the landing pad.

Jupiter takes the momentary jolt of the portal to try and catch her racing breath, fighting the urge to vomit as the adrenaline works its way through her system, a cramp that refuses to quit tightening her back with each inhale.  The skyjacker, _Caine_ , keeps his wings closely folded in the tight space as he pilots them through their newly arrived destination.  Jupiter sees the blue glow of a gigantic clipper before the shielded docking bay slides into their line of sight through the main viewing window.

Caine is lining up their approach when the small jumper suddenly rocks forward.  Jupiter slams into the main controls, the edge cutting into to her stomach, knocking the wind out of her for the third time in less than an hour.  She dimly registers the cramp bloom into a throbbing ache in her back, but it’s quickly forgotten in the new battle.

“Hold on!” Caine shouts, turning the ship into a sickening barrel roll to avoid the shots on their tail.

“To what!?” Jupiter shouts back as Caine turns the ship into a sickening barrel roll to avoid the shots on their tail.  She focuses on holding herself to the wall as tightly as possible, ignoring the strange throb in her back. 

Caine swears and swings them toward the docking bay again, ignoring the shots rocking the ship.  The clippers defenses are already speeding towards them to take out anything after them, or anything that makes it into the clipper with them.

The jumper’s landing, if a shrieking slide a thousand feet down a runway and limping to a stop in front of a much larger shuttle can be called a landing, is less than graceful.  Whatever ships still chasing them wisely choose to portal away and lick the wounds caused by the clipper’s impressive defense system.  Jupiter fights the competing desires to run screaming from the jumper or stay to wait and see who has paid the skyjacker to rescue her.

She chooses to meet her fate when Caine opens the jumper’s hatch, offering a hand to help her to the ground.  Large, arching cathedral like columns and an overabundance of what looks like shining obsidian laced with gold are the first things to catch Jupiter’s eye.  The next is the group of people and SIM’s rushing towards them down the runway.  Tenseness tightens Jupiter’s shoulders, her breath still racing from the chase, offset by the warm wet feeling running down her back.

“Shit.” Caine’s exclamation catches Jupiter’s attention at the moment her fingers make contact with the spot, along with something hard that should _definitely_ not be there.  Quick breaths are accompanied by a cold sweat breaking out on her body, fingers traveling over the _thing_ that is lodged in her back. 

_Strange, why doesn’t it hurt?_

And then, suddenly, it does.  The dull throb she’d pushed away as a bruise turns into a sharp pulsing pain, every breath taking it deeper, sending another warm rush of liquid down her back.  No, not liquid, _blood._  

Her blood, a lot of it.

Her heartbeat speeds up, breaths coming harder, faster, pushing the pain deeper.  The fingers trying to feel out the damage are suddenly cold, clumsy.  Caine is standing in front of Jupiter, saying something, but her eyes won’t focus, the black spot in her eyes infuriatingly blocking his expression.  Words she can see being formed barely reach her ears through the muffled air.

Jupiter barely realizes the only reason she hasn’t crumpled to the ground are Caine’s arms wrapped around her shoulders, trying to avoid whatever has stabbed her.  The group running down the runway finally reaches them, but Jupiter is too far gone to hear what they say, to register their panicked expressions.

Someone that looks like a doctor pushes through the group as Jupiter hears a familiar voice yelling in the back of the crowd, and then she finally faints.


	2. Healing

Rushing feet, a sharp ache in her back.  Someone holding her, a gentle weightlessness that eases her pain.  Lights, far above in the ceiling, passing by as she is rushed through hallways.  An annoying prick in her arm, sudden warmth traveling through her limb.

“…too much blood loss…”

“ _Make it work!”_

“…need higher purity…too much damage…healing too slow…unlikely to survive removal…”

The hallway fades away, Jupiter’s breathing slowing as the warmth reaches her chest, easing the frantic beat of her heart.  The feeling of movement doesn’t stop, and when Jupiter opens her eyes again the hallways are smaller but no less ornate. 

A sudden jostle sends fresh pain screaming (or is it her making that terrible noise?) through her body, everything going away in a wall of black.

 

***********

Floating again, but this time the light comes not from the ceiling, but from the billion stars surrounding the pool, gentle arms holding her head above the water.  Water that tingles, cooling like too much mint with a kiss of warmth, everywhere it touches.  The pain that was merely suppressed before now feels like a proper bruise, the painful itch of healing deep inside that she’ll never be able to reach.

Jupiter looks through the nearly invisible ceiling at the universe as it travels by with no care for the actions of ones so small.  The gentle hum of voices talks softly around her, muffled by the liquid splashing around her ears.  Curiosity at who is talking, clinically running hands over her torso, gently holding her face above the surface, is slowly rising to the top of her mind.

For now though, Jupiter is content to float in the warm bath, to watch the stars pass by the clipper, to feel each breath come easier as her mind clears. 

When the energy to turn her face doesn’t feel like such an effort Jupiter looks to the side, around the arm supporting her head, and sees more stars where the liquid meets the glass-like walls encasing the pool she is gently floating in.  Flashes of blue dazzle her eyes with every lapping wave. 

If the drug in her veins hadn’t muffled her mind so strongly the realization that she is in a pool of Regenex would have a very violent reaction. 

Later, she will be upset later.  Once everything stops hurting, and she isn’t so tired.

The hand under head rises slightly in response to some request, bringing her ears above the surface, and Jupiter becomes aware that someone is softly saying her name.  Gentle fingers, covered in a dusting of blue pigment, softly push her face to look towards the ceiling.  A woman, with long feathers the color of a twilight sky for hair, comes into Jupiter’s line of sight.

“Jupiter, can you hear me?”

The effort to speak, to answer the woman, is still too much, so Jupiter settles for a very small nod.  The woman smiles, the billion stars glowing behind her a glorious halo.

“Good!  Very good,” she quickly glances towards Jupiter’s stomach.  Regenex flows around her torso in small currents caused by the several other people in the pool with them. 

Her very naked torso.  Actually, everything is naked.  Another thing that would normally incite a more concerned reaction.

“Jupiter,” the woman’s voice pulls Jupiter back to the pool, “You were stabbed by a piece of shrapnel.  It ruptured your spleen and severely damaged your left kidney.  We’ve given you blood and intravenous Regenex to stabilize your condition but we still need to remove the metal so your body can finish healing.” 

Jupiter knows she should feel something at the doctor’s words, but the soothing tingle from the Regenex and remaining drugs in her bloodstream have reduced her mind to a soft fog.  Or maybe it’s the blood loss.  Either way, Jupiter is only able to manage another small nod at the woman’s words.

“I’m going to sedate you in a moment, and when you wake up everything will be healed.  Okay?”

Again, another nod.  Someone hands something to the woman, and that’s when Jupiter’s following eyes sees who is holding her in the water.

A deep part of her, a part that would never rise to the surface unless she was in this exact situation, registers that Balem shirtless, glowing Regenex beading on his skin and wet hair drying into soft waves, is a good look. 

Wait, is he naked too?

She takes in a breath to try and speak, but something sharp pokes her neck, and then everything fades away.

 

***********

 

The pillow is the softest fabric Jupiter has ever felt, and the mattress is a gift from god.  She is never getting up.  Jupiter pulls the comforter closer to her chin and rolls onto her side, inhaling the scent of cloves and cinnamon permeating every inch of the fabric.

 _Pain.  An explosion.  Glowing blue water_. 

Jupiter bolts upright in the bed, memories returning in a flood.  Hands scrabble along her back, covered in a silky grey nightgown, looking for the thing that had been in her body the last time she was awake.

Nothing, all she feels through the nightgown is smooth skin, no hint of a scar at all.  Her eyes dart around the room, spot a dressing area complete with a three way mirror in the opposite corner.  Barely coordinated feet carry her to it before the thought is formed.

She raises the nightgown with some trepidation, expecting a tangled mass of scars, but her fingers had felt the truth.  Nothing but the same skin she is used to seeing every day, complete with the occasional freckle, greets her.

The miracles of Regenex strike again.  How many lives had been used to save hers?  Jupiter drops the nightgown and runs a hand through her hair, looking at the rest of the room she’s woken in.

Room isn’t really the right word though.  What does someone call a space with a ceiling so high you can barely see it?  Something, most likely a sitting area, is situated in an upper loft accessible by a spiraling staircase, while she currently occupies the lower sleeping quarters, complete with an array of floating clothing displayed in wait for her to don. 

Jupiter turns to walk back to the bed only to stumble to a stop.  A massive window takes up the entire far wall of the room, reaching all the way to the ceiling.  Clear glass, so perfect it may as well have not been there, allows the soft golden orange light to filter into the room.  It barely softens the dark, domineering tone that dominates the room.  Massive arches support the city beyond, holding back the raging hurricane.

She’s on Jupiter, in the refinery. 

Balem, _oh my god Balem, holy crap, Balem rescued me,_ has almost brought her home.

Ships zoom past; the refinery in full swing as she watches from what must be a very small window to passersby.  Balem’s clipper is docked close by, near the entrance to his palace in the factory.  The palace she’s woken up in.

The memory of weightlessness, a hand cradling her head, surfaces.  Now that she isn’t drugged, foggy from blood loss, Jupiter can process what she hadn’t seen before.  Her strange and alarming attraction in the pool feels suddenly out of place.  Balem had been _wrecked_.  Dripping wet, hair askew, eyes wide with darting panic, face so pale each freckle looked like a scar.  Terror like that is something Jupiter expects to see in movies, or at a hospital, never on Balem. 

Why had he even been in the pool in the first place?  He had servants to keep her from drowning.

A soft chime sounds through the room, the chamber presence announcing the arrival of a visitor.  Jupiter turns from the window to see the same feathered doctor walking down the staircase.  She smiles when sees Jupiter.

“You’re awake!  And moving!  _Excellent_.  How do you feel?” the woman hurries to a stop in front of Jupiter, twisting to look at her back.

“F-Fine, I guess,” Jupiter stutters, “Who are you?”

“Niana.  May I?” she gestures to Jupiter’s back, lifting up the nightgown when Jupiter warily turns around.  Her fingers gently prod the area that would have been a death sentence on Earth.

“I’m Balem’s primary physician,” Niana continues, “You’ve been asleep for almost a week.”

“A week!” Jupiter yelps.  Her mother has probably torn a hole in the roof with worry.  Niana’s fingers pause against Jupiter’s skin.

“Unavoidable, really.  Had to let your brain finish healing from the blood loss to prevent any permanent damage.  You’ve healed remarkably fast,” Niana’s supposedly reassuring smile misses it’s mark as she hovers some sort of medical device over Jupiter’s recently restored tissues, “but even with high grade Regenex the mind still goes at its own pace.” 

The constant flow of inane chatter manages to keep Jupiter from exploding into a million questions as Niana continues to examine the recently healed area, then starts prompting her to answer simple math and memory questions.

“Everything seems to be in working order,” she settles the nightgown around Jupiter’s thighs.  “Are you hungry?”

Jupiter’s empty stomach makes itself known.  Niana grins at the audible growl.

“I’ll send for some food and call a SIM to help you get dressed.  Balem will want to see you once he hears you’re awake.” Niana’s chipper disposition dims slightly at the mention of Balem, but perks back up when Jupiter thanks her. 

She quickly pops out a question before Niana can leave, “What happened to Caine?”

“Who?” Niana asks.

“The skyjacker who rescued me,” Jupiter clarifies.

“Oh! Him!” Niana gestures Jupiter to a chair even though she isn’t tired, whole week of sleep and all, but she sits so Niana will continue, “You should thank Chicanery.  The message that you’d been abducted was intercepted by his spies before Kalique had a chance to see it.  He’d already contacted the proper party and organized your rescue before Balem even finished reading the FTL.”

“Chicanery’s braver than I thought,” Jupiter says, eyebrows raised in astonishment.

“What do you mean?” Niana pulls the chair from the dressing area closer to sit in front of Jupiter, crossing her legs and easing into the cushions.

“How did he know Balem would want me rescued?” Jupiter asks.  They hadn’t exactly parted on good terms the last time.

Niana seems unsure of how to answer, night blue feathers ruffling.  A bright green stripe of plumage becomes visible near her neckline.

“You should probably ask Lord Balem that question,” she says, tone carefully neutral. 

Jupiter is reminded of Kalique when she’s asked a question that hits a little too close to home.

Jupiter leans forward in her chair, “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Oh?” Niana is the picture of innocence.

“Where is the man who rescued me?” Jupiter repeats.

“Balem was furious that you were so badly injured,” Niana’s feathers lay back down, her diplomatic answer spawning a swarm of butterflies in Jupiter’s stomach, “but I believe the skyjacker was returned to his post.  Chicanery had to decrease his reward, of course.”

It always came down to money with these people. 

_Not so different from Earth, if you’re being honest._

“But he’s alive?  Nothing bad is going to happen to him?”

Niana inclines her head to Jupiter, “He’s alive, as far as I know.  Chicanery should know more.”

Jupiter makes a mental note to track the splice down before she leaves.  The man nearly died rescuing her, massive blood loss or not.  There better not be any _accidents_ planned for his future.

“You’re very lucky, you know.”

Jupiter focuses back on Niana, pulled from her contemplation.

“How does any of this make me lucky?” she asks.  Last time Jupiter checked getting kidnapped by people who wanted to use you as a bargaining chip against your genetic family did not make one lucky.

“He would have let anyone else die.  Family excluded, of course,” Niana says cheekily.

Jupiter pauses for a moment, unsure of how to respond, “I’m not sure that makes me lucky.”

Niana shrugs, “Balem has a hard time letting go of what he loves.  Be grateful you fall into that group and not another.”

“But I’m not the one he loves,” Jupiter says, frustration rising.  Why can’t anyone in the universe just see _her?_

“I would keep that thought to yourself,” Niana’s gaze is deferentially trained on the floor, her hands folded in her lap with a sudden tenseness.  “What happens to those in the other group…” she looks from the floor to the window, anywhere but Jupiter, “There’s a reason Chicanery drinks.”

Niana chances a glance at Jupiter’s face.  The realization that his woman is much older than she appears strikes her, as does the warning look of fear in that small glance.  Jupiter gives a slow nod of understanding, and Niana begins to breathe again.

Then she adds something completely unexpected, “When you talk to him, be gentle.  We’ve never seen him like this before.”

“What do you mean?” Jupiter asks.  Niana’s face shows her search for words.  For several moments none come.

“It’s best if you see for yourself,” she finally answers.

Jupiter nods again as Niana heads up the stairs to exit the room, clearly unwilling, or too fearful, to speak more of her employer. 

Several minutes pass while Jupiter puzzles out the doctor’s words.  The idea of confronting a Balem in a worse state than last time is absolutely terrifying. 

For want of distraction as she waits on her food Jupiter walks down the line of floating clothes, at a loss to choose from the mass of finery.  Something will have to do.  Her clothes, covered in blood as they were, have probably been long disposed of.

The disdainful look Balem had given her attire during his harvest demonstration comes to mind, making Jupiter chuckle and helping to ease her panic at their impending discussion.  What did the man have against jeans anyway?

She passes the ostentatious glitter, the ones with strange head pieces, and stares in confusion at a dress with a collar so high and protruded that it would remove any peripheral vision.  There is something with feathers in a rather vibrant shade of green that her mind can’t seem to make sense of.

One finally appeals to her, a gown made of fitted black velvet so deep it almost reflects its own stars, the long sleeves and side panels a sheer form-fitting material.  Looping gold jewelry rests on the neck and wrists of the strange floating form, not a glittering stone in sight.  Jupiter knows she’ll be able to walk (and see) in that one, and the train is manageable.

The SIM that enters with her food stops when it sees Jupiter from the edge of the loft, contemplating the strange, yet familiar, woman staring at the floating finery. 

“Do you need assistance, Miss Jones?” it asks.

Jupiter squeaks and whirls around, knocking the dress into a waterfall of fabric on the floor. 

Her eyes look from the dress on the floor to the SIM, debating on whether or not she’s comfortable letting a robot help her dress.  How much could it hurt?  There definitely hadn’t been a visible zipper.

The SIM bustles around the sleeping area while Jupiter sits in the upper loft eating the thin soup, that somehow manages to have a delicious spicy flavor, and strange space vegetable that reminds her of purple broccoli.  The tea has the same cinnamon and clove flavor that permeates the linens in the room (even the dresses, she’d checked). 

The dress fits Jupiter perfectly, not surprisingly, nearly confirming the suspicion that it was intended for another.  When the SIM tries to do her hair and makeup Jupiter shoos the woman (it looks female at least) from the room, insisting that she’ll meet her outside when she’s done.

The SIM wavers for a moment, debating which orders to follow, finally deciding it will be better to just follow the recurrence’s request.  The palace still buzzed with stories of the woman’s last visit.  A vibrating hum of excitement, fueled by tales of warm smiles and sincerely uttered gratitude’s, would surely be reignited the universe over once the stories of Jupiter’s miraculous rescue were inevitably leaked to the press.

With the SIM patiently waiting outside the room, Jupiter settles for braiding her hair over her shoulder and putting on enough make-up to keep the dress from completely washing her out, then dons the jewelry. 

The thought that she’s been missing for a week, probably longer counting the time she spent unconscious before her rescue, starts to creep up as she heads to the door.  Seriously, what the hell is she going to tell her family? 

Chicanery.  He’ll know what to do.  If he hasn’t already taken care of it.  Hopefully with unobjectionable methods.

Jupiter hesitates at the door, not quite ready to face the world just yet.  Leaving this beautiful room will mean that she once again has to acknowledge her strange place in the universe.  Is she ready?  To see him?  Balem had authorized her rescue, but they still didn’t particularly like each other. 

There is also the small issue of her decision.  Of whether or not she is going to accept what his mother had unofficially offered.  A decision she is still going to put off as something that could wait for another day.

So Jupiter breathes deep, waves the door open, and braves whatever the universe has in store for her today.


	3. Mutual Understanding

The SIM gives a knowing smile when Jupiter enters the hallway holding the heels, beckoning her to follow through the long maze of corridors.

Memories tug at Jupiter, bringing back the horror of her last visit.  An invisible floor, humans floating down an assembly line like cattle, the piles of blood soaked _leftovers_.

She’s more worried about Balem.  Why had _he_ rescued her, of all people?  The last time they’d seen each other had been terrible.  Overlaying it all was his assumption that Jupiter’s rejection of Seraphi’s instilled beliefs equated a rejection of him.

Jupiter’s head tilts back as she thinks of the nights she’s spent remembering that week, his hostility and frustration building until it finally exploded.  She’d been terrified of harvesting, of him, of his misdirected anger.

So why had he saved her?  Honestly, Jupiter’s death would probably mean the prevention, or at least significant delay, of his mother’s. 

_It made no sense._

The SIM pauses, and Jupiter sees the doors to his throne room, swallows thickly to get rid of the sick taste of impending illness in her mouth.  Her robotic companion watches Jupiter slip on her heels, then signals the doors to open. 

Silence is her only welcome.  Jupiter rolls her eyes, fear giving way to irritation. 

_More power plays._

He isn’t even looking at her when she enters.  Just sitting there, staring out the giant windows at his vast kingdom.  The doors close behind her, and then they’re alone.

Jupiter isn’t having it.  Niana may have asked her to play nice, but she’s not about to be treated like a second class citizen just because of the cosmic accident of her birth.  It happened enough at home.

She straightens her spine and walks straight down the middle of the room, the clicking heels almost covering the sounds of her train brushing the floor.  Any thoughts of the acts in the labs beneath the floor are banished to deepest parts of her mind.  They won’t help her right now.

He finally looks up at her when she stops in front of his gaze, blocking the view of the busy refinery beyond.  Whatever harsh words she’d intended to say, deserved retribution for what he’d put her through before, die on her lips.  Niana was right, this is not the man she expected to see, sure of himself and his place in the universe.

What meets Jupiter’s eyes instead is pain.  Unadulterated, naked pain.  Unlike Kalique, however, Balem is incapable of hiding it behind coyness and a charming smile.  He wears it like armor, showing the festering wound to the world.  Jupiter knows that look well, seen it in Kalique’s eyes countless times since they’d realized Seraphi’s true intentions.  It doesn’t matter how he chooses to bear it.

So she heeds Niana’s words and chooses not to lash out, but to be gentle.  Because while Jupiter never knew her father, she’s seen firsthand the grief losing a loved one causes.  It’s been in her mother’s eyes Jupiter’s entire life.  Balem’s actions were inexcusable, but she understands why he would do anything to prevent that pain.

Balem has to see her stance soften, see the proud straightness of her shoulders lower just slightly. 

“I’m grateful you saved me; don’t get me wrong here” Jupiter says, “But I don’t understand why.”

If Balem is thrown by her question he does a good job of hiding it.  He smiles, a bare rising of the corner of his mouth.

Balem’s soft words are accompanied by a small huff, “If my mother’s final wish is that you live, who am I to go against it?”

Jupiter’s eyebrows crease together in wary confusion, not for a second buying his excuse. 

“Right, because in the two months since we spoke,” she uses the word graciously, “you’ve had a giant turn of heart and are suddenly on board with your mother’s plan?”  Jupiter winces inside as the words come out, knowing his words were meant for a fight.  How does Balem always know exactly where to push her buttons?

_Oh, you know the answer to that, you silly, silly girl._

Balem’s slightly bared teeth and quick breaths make Jupiter very aware that her words have hit their unintentional mark. 

She looks away, hoping to avoid the approaching altercation, ashamed of herself for playing right into his game.  “I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have said that.  I know it’s not true.”

This time Balem’s shock, and a troubling amount of disappointment, shows on his face.  A picture of herself in Balem’s mind with Seraphi laid over her like a second skin flits through Jupiter’s thoughts.

What should she say to him?  She’s comforted friends when they’d lost a loved one, helped her neighbor bury his dog after it was hit by a car.  She’s never, however, spoken to someone who knows the inevitable is about to slam into them like a freight train.  What _can_ you say?  Nothing will make it better, can make it stop.  Words do nothing when the course is set.

Cautiously, Jupiter steps closer to Balem.  Like a human slowly reaching towards a frightened animal Jupiter gently places her hand on tops of his where it rests on the arm of his throne.  When he doesn’t immediately pull away, or really even twitch, Jupiter settles her hand more firmly over his, daring to even wrap her fingers slightly around his palm.

His body sags into his throne, the taught line of his spine finally easing.  Jupiter finally, truly, breathes when his eyes slip closed. 

And then he explodes.

Balem rips his hand from hers, snarling as he stands to tower over her.  Jupiter throws herself to the side as quickly as possible, slipping on the slick fabric of the dress before managing to regain her footing.  She really shouldn’t have put the heels on.

“Is this what you want?” his voice is a hissing snarl.  Jupiter wishes he was shouting.

“What?” she asks, preparing to run towards the door, scream for someone to help.

“You want us to pretend that nothing will change?  That she’ll die and everything will be the same?” his eyes are glittering pools of anger.  The threatening tears scare Jupiter more than his controlled fury from her last visit.

Jupiter tries to dart away but Balem is suddenly in front of her, backing Jupiter towards his throne.

“ _Everything will change_!” Jupiter jumps back at his shout.  Could she get his throne between them?

He continues advancing towards her, face a livid shade of red, “Mother will give you her title, our name, industry, us, but you will never be her.”

At that, Jupiter has finally had enough.  Had enough of these siblings so old and far removed from everything real that they can’t even understand a simple human with real problems and a real fucking family.  She is done.

Balem is reaching for her, eyes wild with that madness Kalique had warned her about.  So Jupiter does what she’s always been told not to do. 

She fights. 

Where Balem is expecting her to run, Jupiter uses her small frame and rushes him, ducking before his arms can wrap around her torso and slamming his body back.  She’s back to the window before Balem realizes what’s happened.

Jupiter uses his shock at someone actually touching him to get his attention, “I don’t want to be any of you!  No one even tries to understand!  I will always lose!  No matter what happens!”

Once Balem has regained his balance Jupiter momentarily relishes the way his eyebrows draw together and his lips parts, unsure of the words to say.  Confusion on Balem’s face is the best thing she’s seen since this mess began.

Jupiter keeps talking, the words, finally unleashed, coming like a flood, “If I choose to not take Seraphi’s ‘gift’, I lose.  She dies, you get the Earth, and I know you’ll harvest it immediately to get rid of me.  My family dies and everything will be gone.  No one matters.”

“And if I say yes, let Seraphi have her way,” Jupiter laughs at the thought, “I get this,” she waves her hand at the splendor surrounding them, “and sure, I can save Earth.  My family gets to live, and so do 7 billion people.  But it doesn’t save the trillions of others that don’t know what’s going to happen to them.   And then I’m left dealing with you,” Jupiter nods to Balem, “and a whole society of people who think I’m the crazy one for knowing how wrong all of this is.”

Her spine deflates when she finishes, the relief of finally telling someone the truth taking away the iron she’s been using to stay afloat all these months.

Balem’s voice floats to Jupiter, “And Mother is still dead.”

Jupiter smiles at Balem sadly, “Yes, your mother is still dead.”  Balem’s cheeks turn back to their normal freckled hue as his anger eases.  The waiting need to run slides from Jupiter’s muscles as the danger in the room passes.

She leans her back against the window and closes her eyes as the glass cools her fevered skin.  Her voice whispers, “I am so screwed.”

A rustle of rippling cloth draws Jupiter’s gaze back to Balem as he approaches her.  Her neck tenses when he reaches out a hand, but he simply cups her cheek, thumb brushing the tender skin under her eye.  He returns her joyless smile, “You will do better than you believe.”

Jupiter swallows heavily and nods, feeling the tension abate when he pulls away and sits back on his throne.

She looks down on him, this man who commands the lives of billions and who expects her to do the same, and drops her head back against the glass.

“How long before I have to choose?” she asks.  Her skin still tingles where his fingers once rested.

She watches the emotions flicker through Balem’s eyes as he considers his answer.  “My mother has played her hand,” he finally says, “so not long.”

Jupiter breathes deep and lets her eyelids fall.  Let’s the maelstrom of her mind take over.  Impossible decisions, thoughts that have been haunting her dreams for months and scenarios that she’s been trying to ignore all roar through her brain.  A whine escapes her throat as she tries sort out the insanity that she’s barely had a year to make sense of.

“I don’t know what to do,” she whispers.  Something in her chest eases as she finally lets go and tells someone how she really feels for the first time in a month.  

“I am not my sister,” his words tear through her relief, “I do not fancy the naiveties of children.”

No anger blooms at his callousness.  Just a small feeling of happiness that she can finally not be surprised by someone in the universe.

“That’s why I told you, and not her,” Jupiter says, “Kalique enjoys uncertainty just a little too much.”

Balem smiles, honest to god actually smiles.  “One day you may see that as a gift,” he says. 

Jupiter shrugs and looks toward him.  “But not today.”

Something that looks suspiciously like respect graces his features as Balem nods at her.  But as quickly as the look comes it disappears, and with a wave of his hand to the door Jupiter is dismissed.

“Mr. Night will see to your travel arrangements,” he says.

Her mouth opens to speak, to thank him again for saving her, but instead Jupiter just shakes her head and smiles.

“Goodbye, Balem,” she says.  His head turns to follow as Jupiter leaves.  She tells herself it’s just her imagination when she feels electric touch of his fingers gliding over her arm as she passes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took forever to get out. I started a new job the same week I posted the 1st two chapters, and then I couldn't get anything in this chapter right. I finally had an epiphany in bed about a week ago. So here it is!

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for how long this took me to get out. I started a new job in August when this was half written and am just now getting the time to finish it. I have all three parts already written, I just need to finish editing the last two.


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